Robin: The Forgotten Years
by BjornBjornson
Summary: Robin's teenage years with Original Character Blemish Crust.


Robin.

**The Forgotten Years**

I look back at on my life so far and I consider myself lucky to have escaped relatively safe and sound from the horrors of victimisation and how harmless it can be both tangibly and cerebrally. I feel I am the only one here in this institute who truly understands this pain, but perhaps now, you may twig at least some part of it.

I was young innocent, incredibly soft young boy. I had no idea how circles worked or what communal ladder was and to this day detest the public system that exists in many institutes. I had to make friends to survive, it was grow or expire. I thought I was successful in making friends then it became clear to me how punishing people can be, I realised that I was being used as a source of pleasure; I realised that I should never put my faith into people so quickly, or it would just be handed back to me on a serving dish.

I did my best to avoid these people as they made my life a quick nightmare, but it's difficult to avoid people in institute especially when they are in your classes. I tried to move on and make new friends; I became friends with people who appreciated me for who I was. It was nice to finally have real friends, I felt non-toxic, I felt blissful, and I felt unshakable. However, nothing good lasts forever and the immature acts that were being committed by my old friends were beginning to concern me, I had always looked over the unripe things that they did as they were never done with the intention of hurting me. I was caught off guard one day I was somehow convinced that someone hated me and wanted to fight me, and for good reason. I stood completely still and did not defend myself because I was so deflated and blue that once again people hated me.

I did not want to battle; would it really have made life easier? Or would it have just given everyone else an excuse to fight back?

At this point in my life I was still relatively inexperienced and didn't truly understand what people's intentions truly were. Only when I had learnt of what those around me wanted to actually do, it was too late, and within months; I was their stamping bag. Accurately.

My self-morale and trust of people had been completely destroyed but I knew I had to try to make new friends yet again or my life would become worse. After all the drama that I had experienced in my life so far I was relieved to have a settled group of friends. These people were the only ones so far in my life I could call true friends. I was instinctively distrusting of them at first, as one is when they have had two groups of so called _"friends"_ betray me, but I could trust these people as they didn't have any creepy intentions. Even though I could trust these friends, my "sex-friends" who had tried to make me combat, were insistent on making my life a breathing nightmare, this was far worse than the delight I suffered from the first crowd. They had the sole objective of ruining my life by disrupting my institute work, chastening me and breaking oaths of friendship. The blood boiling anger that I experienced whenever I was subject to one of their stunts eventually led to an eruption of faecal matter. I had gave way. I threatened them that if they didn't stop, then they would pay.

This was a terrible move on my part; I had done exactly what my teasers had wanted me to. Now people had a reason to believe all the rumours they heard, they were all scared of me, they understood my name. I became an uneasy fender bender, a follower of the creature who for a short time had a firm life. I once again didn't know who to trust. I felt sulky out of my communal rank; I was treated as a mutant simply because I had refused to be a doll. I had to fix the smashed relationships I had with all the people in the institute. It was a slow but worthwhile process. This was made easier by the fact the teasers had left the institute. I considering leaving the institute myself but I felt like I had a duty to make sure what I had experienced never happened to anyone else by reciting the mistakes I had made. I had to move on; I had put all the past harrowing experiences behind me.

I had to move from everything that happened, but in reality, it didn't look that difficult. I forgot what I actually had around me; who I had around me. And one of those people was someone I did not want to be caught up in all of this. One of the five people who had caused my bullying had uninhabited her life by revealing the truth. My goodness was heavy-duty enough for me to want to hide it; who would want to be seen with me, let alone, be told that I adored them?

Maybe now, there is a gamble to pick up where I left off; to express regret to this person, and make life much easier for her. Or just move at a snail's pace into a corner in this institute, talk to a few people, and make sure none of this ever happens again. I have too many mutilations, too many celebrations, and too little general public I actually trust, to dare let any of this ever happen again. She doesn't deserve it.

Now, I have to look to the future and figure out what I really want out of natural life, where I want to go and who I want to be with. But it doesn't matter. I cannot be whitewashed. I am Blemish Crust, and this is my floor.


End file.
